Now, because I used the phrase "three little words," it's likely that the first answer that came to your mind is "I love you." But if you know me, you'll know that, precisely because I manipulated you into thinking of that answer first, it's quite unlikely that that is the "right answer" in my eyes.
By the way, it isn't my intention to minimize the importance of "I love you." What I do want to do is to call your attention to the importance of these other three words -- which I'll reveal any minute now, I promise -- because I think they deserve more attention than they usually get. Perhaps, indeed, my question would have been clearer if I had asked, not for the "most important" three words, but for the most underrated ones, instead.
So. IMIHO (in my insufficiently humble opinion), the most important, and/or most underrated, three little words in the English language are ...
"I don't know."
What's so important about them? Well, that's real simple. People make a lot of very bad decisions because they ask themselves "What will happen if I do <whatever>" -- and then, if they like the answer, proceed to do <whatever>, without ever thinking about whether their prediction was certain, or just likely.
Suppose, for example, you were to get into your car, and ask yourself, "Am I going to have an accident on this trip?" And answer "no," because, well, you probably won't. But then, because the answer was no, you conclude that there's no point in fastening your seat belt. That's irrational, for obvious reasons, right? (Please say yes.)
If every example of the importance of "I don't know" were like that one, then the importance of it would be one of those things which is true, but doesn't need to be said -- in this case, because it's so obvious. But not all the examples are like that.
Suppose you are deciding who's going to get your vote for president of your country. One of the candidate says things like "Only I can fix it." And he makes clear in other ways that, if elected, he will centralize as much power as possible in his own office. His central message, perhaps not quite explicit, is "Trust me, and I'll take care of everything."
And suppose further you are, in fact, inclined to trust the guy. Maybe because, unlike other politicians, he seems to be saying what he really thinks. And so you decide to vote for him.
This, I submit, is highly irrational too, but the reasons why it is irrational may not be quite as obvious as they were in the seat belt example. After all, you're supposed to make up your own mind, so, if your own gut feeling is that this is the most trustworthy of the candidates, then what's wrong with voting for him on this basis?
Fundamentally, in order to understand what's wrong with it, you need to realize that, no matter how strong your gut feeling is, you don't know for certain that this candidate will prove worthy of that trust. And therefore, you need also to ask yourself: "What's the downside in case I turn out to be wrong?"
If this is also the one candidate who says he will be a "strong leader" -- will make the decisions himself, not let himself be ordered around by, say, Congress -- then the downside is considerable. In such a case, it may be more rational to vote for another candidate, one whose record suggests that he will "play by the rules," as set forth in the United States Constitution, even if your gut feel rates this other candidate lower on the personal trustworthiness scale.
I am (perhaps exceedingly!) confident that this, the importance of "I don't know," is, in fact, the fundamental principle behind all the "checks and balances" built into our Constitution. The people who wrote the thing went to a lot of trouble to (try to) make sure that no one person, or branch, had absolute power. Why did they bother? Because they understood that we can never know for sure who, if anyone, can be trusted that far.
So now you know the rest of the story.
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